China

Tonight my dad gave me 6 sets of this china. Each set includes a dinner plate, tea cup, and saucer. They are Churchill in the Classic Blue Willow pattern and made in England. They're really not worth all that much (maybe $20 a set) but they are a small bit of what my Grandma Barb and Pop used to collect in the way of antiques and home pieces. There is a bit of history with them. The dinnerware was made in the 80s and 90s and sold in many grocery stores. The pattern is oriental and has a very interesting history which you can read more about here.
I hope for them to be well loved in my house, which I daily dream of decorating and cooking in. I can picture sitting around the table in a few years, sipping some Earl Grey with girlfriends and eating crepes or waffles or fresh fruit and scones. For now, they will join my strawberry yogurt glasses and other odds and ends that are wanting a place of their own in my future abode.

A River Runs Through It

I remember the last sermon I ever heard my father give, not long before his own death:"Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one in need and ask the same question: We are willing Lord, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true that we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, that part we have to give... is not wanted. And so it is those we live with and should know who elude us... But we can still love them... We can love—completely—even without complete understanding..."
Now, nearly all those I loved and did not understand in my youth are dead, even Jessie. But I still reach out to them... When I am alone in the half-light of the canyon, all existence seems to fade away to a being with my soul and memories of the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River, and a four-count rhythm, and the hopes that a fish will rise.Eventually all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the earth’s great flood and runs over the rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words. And some of the words are theirs. 'I am haunted by waters.

Screens

Metal mesh that keeps out bugs
I can handle those;
Pliable bendable breathable.
But we've invented new screens,
Backlit backdrop desktops,
And we use them not as breezeways
Instead as blockades

I'm guilty too, so please don't think
I wrote this as a critique of just you.
My screen can dim in darkness,
Careful not to keep my roommate up at night
A cursor blinks ready for swift fingers
To send it whizzing through pages,
Faster than I flip through books anymore.
It has seen the profane, taken part in tainting
Useful in displaying to the world
My apathy, cynicism, and brains.

These screens we all run behind remind
Me of the days we had a sliding back door
To enter into a world
Of breezes, pollen, playing.
But screens are not any longer membranes of going
My family keeps retreating
I keep believing
The world in this half centimeter thick
Piece of plastic technologic
Tricks
Is a brighter and more fun one
Than what lies beyond curtains, glass and metal mesh
Which can be unlatched and slid and undone.

Screens keep blinding me,
Instead of the sun beyond them inviting me
To rediscover conversation,
Minutia and relation.
All around they glare,
Spinning my mind around
Confused and searching and wanting
And lonely in every way and everywhere.

Even now I'm writing, cowering and
Not fighting
Behind a screen of backlight white
Publish, power down, and sleep.
Press my nose against the screen that keeps the
Winter rain from flooding in,
Feel drops become freckles
And remember that I have a face that needs to face
The world unscreened, full on
Flesh covered and
Seen.

Getting There.

I have driven three 12 hour trips in the past month. Each of them has been different and at times unexpected.

On the first, I had my first flat tire ever on the highway 30 minutes from school. My driver's side front tire completely blew out at about 55 MPH and I was able to successfully get over 3 lanes and onto the shoulder. Our spare was flat, so thank goodness for insurance, the repair man they sent out filled it up for us and changed our tire. On a doughnut we drove back to school, the wrong direction in my head, and slept on campus for an extra night. In the morning we got the tire changed and then went to fill up at the gas station. Pulling out of the gas station, my left rear tire went flat. I pulled into the Waffle House parking lot and Robert changed it to the spare. We returned to the Walmart and got all new tires. The flats happened exactly 12 hours apart from each other. 9:01pm and 9:01am.

The trip back to school was fine except for the traffic we got stuck in and a few squabbles born of being in a confined space for too long. The day started with stalling in the Sanderson parking lot and praying our car could make the trip ahead. Eager to get home for Christmas though, I got my first ever speeding ticket. I now owe the state of Virginia $121. I had gotten around a slow car and was in the left lane going down a hill and looking ahead to pass some trucks. I came over the hill alone in the left lane, saw the cleverly veiled cop car, looked the cop basically in the eye, and couldn't even brake before he pulled out behind me. I was going 80mph in a 70 so I can't even be mad. He was nice and let me off easier than he could have. After we dropped David off in Baltimore our low oil level light came on and the last 2 hours to home was one filled with little heart attacks on my part as every jump in my engine made me fear breaking down.

God's teaching me through these trials. Lots of things. I am not in control of everything no matter how much I want to be. He never leaves or forsakes me (he's provided safety and help and comfort through it all). We can't forgo the journey for the destination, because often the lesson is in the journey itself. We don't reach some point of realization in the distant future, but God is molding us at every turn. It took a lot for me to not get out of my car and scream profanities after the second flat and the ticket. That's exactly what I wanted to do, but God gave me peace. As we drove back to school the first time, Ruthie sang Be Still My Soul from her hymnal. I spent the entire 12 hour drive this time praying. He says, ask and you shall receive. I knew he was going to get us home in one piece, and he did! I didn't know I'd get a ticket though. Life doesn't go how I plan, no matter how meticulously I calculate. God's plan is so much grander and more beautiful, for which He is to be exalted and praised immeasurably.

I'm grateful for journeys, and the lessons that come with living through moments. As Jim Elliot said, "Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." 

Lord, I need thee. Every hour I need thee. 

Christmas Countdown!

 My roommate is wonderful and decorated our room for Christmas. I love it! These pictures are shamelessly stolen from her instagram.

Twenty One Pilots

Last night Hannah and I drove down to Atlanta for the Twenty One Pilots show at Vinyl Atlanta. The opening bands were The Silver Comet from ATL and The Rocketboys from TX. The venue was intimate and we were pressed against a stage that came up only to our waists, close enough to both receive high fives from Tyler Joseph and feel the waves of sound go through us from Josh Dun's drumset. The band comes from Columbus, OH and being from Cincinnati, Hannah introduced me to them this semester. They have quickly become my favorite band of the year. When asked to describe their sound I always end up saying something confusing like "College rock rappers with clever lyrics, a piano and drumset, mosh with your mom music." See?

At the show last night Josh did a backflip into the crowd right next to Hannah, they did a drum dual in the middle of the crowd, Tyler was successfully awkward and adorable at the same time, and they brought the house down. They played both Trees and Car Radio which are beautiful and deep. They "encored" with Guns for Hands and we all just went crazy jumping and screaming, hair and sweat flinging. It was awesome. This was an especially exciting show because there were only about 100-150 people there and it was the first concert that I had gone to because I really liked the band and was willing to drive to see them. Hopefully there will be more concerts like this in my future. 

I really like Twenty One Pilots because they don't follow conventional musical formats. Their lyrics are fun but also really serious and intelligent. The duo is quick to remind you that they are just human too and we're all broken and struggling. Their friendship is strong and that is especially evident on stage with their witty banter and body language. 

My suggestions for songs to get stuck in your head are Addict with a Pen and Migraine. Check them out!

Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink. (Rime of the Ancient Mariner)

And then I was reminded tonight at the open mic that we are invited to feast on God's water. There is living water. There is water from stones (Ex.17). There is the thirst quenching, life giving, love of God.
There is hurt, so much hurt.
But he's coming back soon and we feel it and our souls groan and ache because it's so close. We hope in truth. We groan in anticipation. Of a loved one who has been on a long trip. Nothing will hold us back from running straight into His arms.

Come thou long expected Jesus.

pashmina, chai latte, pink morning horizon, joy that comes not from my own being, grace that makes everything possible and endless, list making, poem dreaming, annie dillard reading, singing, humming, peanut butter dripping, panicking, breathing, snacking, robust laughter.

TO YOU

WHO LEAST NEED REMINDING

that before this interval of the South Branch under black mountains, there was another interval, the Upper at Plymouth, where we walked in spring beyond the covered bridge; but that the first interval of all was the old farm,our brook interval, so called by the man we had it from in sale. -Robert Frost



red leaves fall on green graves

I made a visit to David's grave today to leave some flowers (Gerber Daisies...my fav) and eat some sushi for lunch in my car. Forest Hills Cemetery is beautiful this time of year and I had been meaning to make a visit sooner. I'm grateful for this place which kind of freaks me out because I used to hate the idea of memorializing the dead and while I still don't particularly agree with gross displays such as the Fouche mausoleum, I left a flower for Blanche too. Graveyards are definitely a thing for the living. I'm drawn to Forest Hills because it reminds me how little I will leave behind and that most of it will not be all that important. I don't even remember why I was drawn to David's grave (probably the hilarious surname), but I do remember thinking how crazy it was that I could only compile a small biography on a man of public importance in Chattanooga. He didn't leave behind a personality or any sentiments...just some facts and a lineage. Places like this should remind us of our ultimate humanity and the perfection of Jesus' life, character, and legacy.